


The Keep

by prompreg



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Birth in Distress, Childbirth, Gen, Pregnancy, Trans Character, Trans Pregnancy, Trans Prompto, cw for birth denial, cw for mentioned torture, graphic childbirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 00:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21065846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompreg/pseuds/prompreg
Summary: Prompto didn't know how long he'd been at Zegnautus Keep, but he did know that the baby was coming--now, and he had no way to give birth.==Another older one from Tumblr, mind the tags and enjoy!





	The Keep

How long had he even been in Zegnautus Keep? Prompto had lost track sometime after the first few days. The cell he was in was perpetually dark and cold, and though Ardyn appeared to come and go on a set schedule, it was hard to know if he’d kept accurate track of the man’s comings and goings when his own periods of wakefulness and unconsciousness were so sporadic. 

All he really knew was that, whether he’d been there one week or five, Ardyn had no intention of letting him down for anything. Meals were given as liquids from a straw; he had a set bathroom schedule and nothing about it was graceful or left any room for pride; exercise was out of the question, and his body either screamed in pain from its’ over-extension, or was numb from its lack of blood. 

It didn’t help that he was already in his third trimester and no doubt nearing his due date now. His stomach hung like a heavy weight, bowing his already stressed back and putting even more excruciating pressure on his body. He had begged for relief those first few days, but Ardyn’s only response to begging was pain; the discarded blades on the small metal table against the wall were still coated with his blood as if to remind him of that fact. As much as Ardyn seemed to delight in drawing the words from him, he had proven over and over they were not to be rewarded.

Now, the only relief he was ever awarded was dealt by unconsciousness. It was hard to stay truly asleep with his body so uncomfortable and in such pain, but his mind often wandered. That state between wakefulness and unconsciousness was the only true way to dull the pain.

It was while he was in that in-between state that it started; at first just a slight twinge that gradually became a full cramp in his lower abdomen. Cramps weren’t uncommon for him at all, strung up like he was with his arms spread and his legs forced together, and so he ignored it as best he could. But as time went on, the new pain in his back and lower abdomen became harder and harder to dismiss, as much as he tried. 

He was roused, forcefully and uncomfortably, by a pain sharper than the rest and a sudden flood of liquids down his clothed legs. For a moment of hazy uncertainty, he thought for sure he had wet himself, but another sharp pain drew him up short with sudden realization.

His water had broken. Due date or not, he was in labor while alone in enemy territory and while completely unable to so much as spread his legs and allow his baby to be born.

Like that he suffered, alone and in agony for what must have been hours. He tried to be quiet and he tried not to beg to at least preserve his dignity, because Ardyn always seemed to know when he did, but as the hours ticked by the contractions became stronger and closer together. He couldn’t shut his mind off anymore, couldn’t pretend the intense contractions were Braxton Hicks or the result of being strung up for so long. 

The child was descending, passing through his widened cervix, moving ever lower to a blocked entrance. There was no way he was giving birth while he was strung up, but even hours later Ardyn still had not appeared. Surely a meal time should have passed, at the very least. The promise of it had been the only way he had made it through so long. But if Ardyn just wasn’t coming…

Another contraction wracked his frame and he screamed, so loud it echoed off the metal walls. They were growing so intense now, Prompto was desperate for relief, both from his bindings and from the pain of his contractions. With each one came the desire to push, but with his body bound as it was he was unable to do so.

When the next contraction hit, the desire came even more powerfully. Unable to fight it, he bore down and felt the child descend even more rapidly. The head was definitely close, he could feel the burn as it mercilessly stretched his inner walls. But with his legs closed, it was trapped. Pushing was only making the pain worse, forcing the child down where it had nowhere to go.

“Ardyn!” He finally screamed, desperate and delirious, “Gods, Noct, please!”

But there was no answer, neither over the intercom or from either men themselves. He was left to scream and strain in the small room, completely alone.

It must have been hours yet before he heard something that wasn’t his own screaming, now thinned and hoarse from his abused throat. He was too delirious to even care who or what it was, but when Noctis burst into view he thought he could pass out from his immense relief.

Noct hesitated, face stricken with horror, but as Prompto sobbed through another contraction he jumped to action, trembling fingers desperately working at the metal straps suspending his arms.

“It’s coming, it’s here, I need, please, I can’t get it out,” Prompto babbled incoherently, voice hoarse, as Gladio and Ignis appeared in Noct’s wake.

“Oh, Six,” He thought he heard Gladio whisper.

“Help me!” Noct all but screamed and then Gladio was there, too, the two of them desperately pulling him from the contraption.

“What’s going on?” Ignis demanded, nearly drowned out by another agonized scream as Prompto’s body contracted again.

“Baby’s coming, kid can’t fucking push in this fucking thing!” Gladio cursed, all but ripping one of the thick metal cuffs open with his bare hands. This time, the pained noise Prompto made was from the abused muscles in his arm spasming as they were finally relaxed. 

Together, Gladio and Noct undid the second cuff, Noct bracing Prompto’s weight as Gladio released the metal band across his chest. With that, he sagged into Gladio’s waiting arms. His own arms had been suspended for so long, he couldn’t even think of moving them. All he could do was sob as his abdominal muscles spasmed again. 

His legs were bound by a leather strap, one Ardyn had placed no doubt deliberately with labor in mind, and Noct quickly cut it off with a small knife the moment Prompto was lowered onto the floor. Being able to spread his legs and push would have been a relief, but his muscles were so stiff and abused from their bindings he could barely move them without help. He sobbed when he tried, frozen stiff with pain. 

“He’ll need help,” Ignis was saying somewhere at his side, “Slowly spread his legs. Be mindful, he’s no doubt been here a long time.”

Gentle hands did as instructed, slowly spreading his legs and pushing them back to his chest. It hurt so much more than he expected and he couldn’t hold back his scream, growing more delirious and desperate and agonized as another harsh contraction forced the baby down again. 

His contractions had become so powerful from his body’s desperate attempt to expel the baby that just one was enough to force him to full crown. He howled as he was mercilessly pried open without warning, the head all but tearing him as it was brutally pushed through his birth canal.

“It’s coming too fast!” Someone said, and then a hand was on the child’s head, slowing its descent. Prompto sobbed, delirious, legs forced back toward his chest as his child was eased out of him so much slower than his body wanted.

“Please, please,” He begged, words meaningless, as another contraction and gentle hands eased the rest of the head out. 

“It’s okay,” That was Noct, “It’s okay, Prom, you’re almost done. We’re here, we’ve got you.”

But even with his contractions so strong, now, the shoulders couldn’t be removed without help. He sobbed and begged and screamed through it until hands supported the infant’s head and twisted, stretching his hole even wider. It burned terribly as one shoulder finally popped free and then the other, the child so wide at its thickest that it had to be slowly tugged from his weeping entrance.

When at last it was done, his legs were slowly lowered. There was movement all around him as jackets were shrugged off and the quiet infant swaddled. Prompto was too out of it with pain to even process what the lack of cries meant, at least until he became aware of the stressed voices of his friends.

“Come on,” Ignis was saying, sounding so far from put together as he rubbed the infant’s back.

Prompto watched, barely conscious, as they fussed with the baby, clearing its airways and coaxing life into it, until, finally, it wailed. It’s cries were as loud as Prompto’s screams had been, and though they echoed off the metal walls, they were easily the best thing Prompto had ever heard. He sagged, eyes drooping, and must have briefly lost consciousness because the next thing he knew something slippery was being eased out of him and he, too, was being swaddled and lifted into strong arms.

“Don’t worry,” Gladio rumbled, voice close and comforting, “you’re safe now.”

Prompto let his head rest against Gladio’s chest and closed his eyes.


End file.
